Mommy Moments
by Clever Ink Slinger
Summary: There are many wonderful experiences that mother's share with their precious little ones. This is a collection for those cherished moments. Please keep in mind that this will eventually be a collection of drabbles, oneshots, two-shots, and any other combination of short stories about different mums of the Harry Potter fandom.
1. Minnie Malady

**Title: **Minnie Malady  
**Category:** Books - Harry Potter  
**Challenge(s): **The Mother's Day Challenge!  
**Prompt(s): **Write a story about Fleur and Dominique.  
**Length:** Oneshot – 2,044 words!  
**Rating: **K  
**Pairing or Characters: **Fleur, Dominique, Bill, Victoire, and Louis.  
**Thanks: **Thank you Katie, for reading over this so quickly and giving me such positive feedback. I appreciate it more than you can know.  
**Disclaimer:** Though it pains me to say so, I do not own the rights to anything that belongs to the Harry Potter universe, nor do I make any money from writing about them. The only thing(s) that I can claim as mine own are the ideas and/or characters that may be woven into the wonderful world of all that is Harry Potter. Everything else is used in the spirit of good-natured fun or naughty shenanigans. What can I say? I just like to play!

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**Minnie Malady**

It was just after three in the morning when Fleur finally finished feeding her three-month-old baby boy. Pulling him away from her breast, she laid Louis gently across her lap so that she could button up her shirt, all the while watching her son flailing his little arms and legs in total happiness. His protruding belly looked almost ready to burst from the lengthy feeding, and Fleur worried that perhaps she had let him drink a bit too much. Slipping the last button into place, she reached for Louis, who was now making milky spit bubbles around the chubby fist he was trying to stuff in his mouth, and put him to her shoulder.

Louis babbled in Fleur's ear while she patted his small back rhythmically. He was by far one of the happiest babies that she had ever encountered. Even Victoire and Dominique, who were both very charming little girls, hadn't been as happy as little Louis when they were infants. Thinking of her two eldest children brought a smile to her lovely face. She genuinely loved being a mother to her three little ones, and Fleur felt incredibly blessed to have such a sweet family. To her, family was absolutely everything, and without them her world would be very bleak indeed.

Fleur heard the rain pattering faintly against the windows of the nursery. Hearing it brought a thought to mind, and she began to sing _Il pleut, il pleut, bergère _softly to Louis as she burped him:

"Il pleut, il pleut, bergère,  
Presse tes blancs moutons,  
Allons sous ma chaumière,  
Bergère, vite, allons.  
J'entends sur le feuillage  
L'eau qui tombe à grand bruit;  
Voici, voici l'orage,  
Voici l'éclair qui luit.

Entends-tu le tonnerre?  
Il roule en approchant;  
Prends un abri, bergère  
À ma droite en marchant.  
Je vois notre cabane  
Et tiens, voici venir  
Ma mère et ma soeur Anne  
Qui vont l'étable ouvrir."

A small sound drew her attention from the baby against her shoulder to the door of the nursery. It creaked open and in walked Bill with Dominique. She was holding onto her dad's hand tightly as he led her through the door. Her shoulder-length platinum hair was sticking up in every direction from sleep. In one arm she held onto her favourite teddy bear from Grandma Molly and the little blanket that she tried to carry everywhere. The sight of her sleepy little girl would have made Fleur smile had her maternal instincts not jumped to attention when she saw that Dominique looked off somehow.

Bill must have seen the concern on her face. He gave her a dejected look and said, "Minnie isn't feeling very well. She climbed into bed to wake me up and then got sick all over the place, me included." He indicated to his bare chest and the lack of shirt covering it.

Fleur gave him a disregarding look. Bill loved his children dearly, but sometimes he really couldn't see past the glass potion phial to the overflowing cauldron beyond. Getting to her feet, she crossed to Bill and handed Louis to him. She gave his arm a reassuring pat and nudged him toward the comfort cushion, a cosy chair similar to a muggle beanbag, on the floor by the bookshelf. She murmured, "Louis needs to be burped before he falls asleep again." Then, she bent to pick Dominique up.

Cuddling the little girl close, she carried her out of the room, down the stairs, through the lounge, and into the kitchen. She set Dominique on the counter beside the store cupboard of medicinal potions. Turning to look into her daughter's deep sapphire eyes, she asked, "ma fifille, is it your tummy that hurts?"

The sick little girl nodded, rubbing a small hand against her sleepy eyes. Fleur gave her a gentle smile; then she turned to rifle through the different bottles on the shelves. Thanks to Molly, who had given her a book of easy medicative brews, Fleur had shelves of little bottles filled with remedies for just about anything they might need for simple ailments. After long minutes of reading labels, Fleur found the right bottle of violet liquid and turned to get a spoon.

"I don't like that, Mama. It tastes bad." Dominique was eyeing the bottle as her mum measured out a bit of the potion. The look of revulsion on her small face was almost comical, but Fleur knew that it might conjure trouble. Dominique had a stubborn streak when it came to many things. Drinking a potion that she thought tasted vile was just one of those things that she was adamant about when she was feeling rebellious.

"Oh, I know you don't like it, Minnie. But you have to drink this if you want your tummy to feel better. Do you think you can take just a little?" Fleur was nodding at her daughter, hoping that the girl would give into reason and take the medicine. After long moments of wearing a stubborn frown, Dominique's pale head bobbed in agreement. "That is Mama's good little girl."

Fleur tipped the spoonful of potion into Dominique's sullen mouth. As soon as the potion touched her tongue, Dominique's face contorted into a grimace that was so violent Fleur worried she would be sick. Then, after choking the potion down, the unhappy little girl exclaimed, "I told you, Mama, I hate that stuff!"

"I'm so proud of you, Minnie. I know you don't like it, and you did very well. So well, in fact, that once you're feeling better, I'll take you for a special treat." Fleur set the potion and spoon aside before she picked her little girl up off the counter and started to make her way back upstairs, intending to put Dominique back in her bed for the night.

Dominique rested her head on her mum's shoulder as they moved through the house. Her little head was turned so that sapphire gaze was on her Fleur's face. "What kind of treat, Mama? Will we get ice cream?" Excitement thrilled through the girl, whose eyes grew large at the thought of eating her favourite sweet treat.

_That idea sure seems to have perked her up a little bit,_ Fleur thought to herself with a smile. To her daughter she murmured, "We can get whatever you like. You can have a book, ice cream, sweeties, anything you want, ma fifille."

"Even a kitten?" Dominique challenged in a sceptical tone.

Normally the thought of getting another animal other than an owl would be out of the question. But, as they climbed the stairs, Fleur really considered it. Victoire had her very own owl that she'd begged for. Her argument had been that she wanted an owl to send messages to her cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. It had been a reasonable request, and both Fleur and Bill had agreed to get her one for her sixth birthday. Minnie wasn't really old enough to have a pet. But then, she did have an affinity with animals. The little girl was forever running after the chickens like a mother hen. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Fleur looked into her daughter's face and spoke, "I'm not sure about a kitten, Minnie. Let me speak with your daddy first. So, no promises. But we'll talk about it, all right?"

"Really, Mama? I can have a kitten?" Minnie's head lifted off of her shoulder in delight as she spoke.

"Don't get too excited, Minnie. I've got to talk to Daddy first."

Dominique gave a little giggle. "Daddy will say yes. I know he will."

The fact that their youngest daughter knew just how much of a weak spot their dad had for his babies made Fleur frown. She could just picture Minnie using those big blue eyes on Bill to get anything she wanted. It was a potential disaster waiting to happen. Still scowling, Fleur said, "Now, you can't know that for sure. Daddy might not want a kitty in the house."

They were drawing closed to the bedroom both of the girls shared as Fleur spoke. When Dominique realized that her mum was going to put her back in bed, she protested. "Mama, I want to stay with you."

"All right, just until you fall asleep. Then we will put you back to bed. Mummy still has to take care of Louis tonight. So, you'll need to be a big girl and sleep in your big girl bed," Fleur explained as she carried the little girl into the nursery on her hip.

When they stepped into the nursery the sight that met their eyes melted Fleur's heart. Bill was lying on the comfort cushion with one hand resting on Louis' back where the baby lay draped across his bare chest. Bill's other arm was around Victoire, who had obviously come into the nursery while Fleur was downstairs, holding the little girl curled snugly against his side. All three of them were fast asleep.

Worried that they might be cold, Fleur took out her wand to point it at a folded quilt lying on top of Louis' dresser. With a little wave of her wand she unfolded the quilt and sent it to lie gently across all three of them; then she went to settle into the rocking chair. Dominique's little body was snuggled against her as she rocked to and fro. The teddy bear was still clutched protectively in one of her arms, and the blanket she'd been carrying was wrapped around the girl to keep her warm as Fleur held her tight.

Rain was still tapping lightly against the windows as Fleur rocked her daughter. Again she began to sing, this time to her little girl.

"Il pleut, il pleut, bergère,  
Presse tes blancs moutons,  
Allons sous ma chaumière,  
Bergère, vite, allons.  
J'entends sur le feuillage  
L'eau qui tombe à grand bruit;  
Voici, voici l'orage,  
Voici l'éclair qui luit.

Entends-tu le tonnerre?  
Il roule en approchant;  
Prends un abri, bergère  
À ma droite en marchant.  
Je vois notre cabane  
Et tiens, voici venir  
Ma mère et ma soeur Anne  
Qui vont l'étable ouvrir.

Bonsoir, bonsoir, ma mère,  
Ma soeur Anne, bonsoir!  
J'amène ma bergère  
Près de nous pour ce soir.  
Va te sécher, ma mie,  
Auprès de nos tisons.  
Soeur, fais-lui compagnie;  
Entrez, petits moutons.

Soignons bien, oh ma mère  
Son tant joli troupeau;  
Donnez plus de litière  
À son petit agneau.  
C'est fait, allons près d'elle  
Eh bien donc te voilà  
En corset, qu'elle est belle  
Ma mère, voyez-la!

Soupons: prends cette chaise,  
Tu seras près de moi;  
Ce flambeau de mélèze  
Brûlera devant toi:  
Goûte de ce laitage;  
Mais tu ne manges pas?  
Tu te sens de l'orage;  
Il a lassé tes pas.

Eh bien, voilà ta couche;  
Dors-y jusques au jour;  
Sur ton front pur, ma bouche  
Prend un baiser d'amour.  
Ne rougis pas, bergère:  
Ma mère et moi, demain,  
Nous irons chez ton père  
Lui demander ta main."

As Dominique's little eyes drifted shut, Fleur thought about how incredibly lucky she was to have such a perfect little family. Even sick kids and feedings in the middle of the night couldn't dampen her feelings about what she had. Yes, Fleur genuinely loved being a mother to her three little ones and the wife of such a wonderful man. She wouldn't change her life for the world.

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**A/N: **Hello all of my lovelies! Thank you for reading this little oneshot. I definitely appreciate that you've taken the time and I hope that you leave a review with any feedback that you may have. I also wanted to leave a little note explaining the French used in this story.

Fleur refers to Dominique as _ma fifille_, which means _my little girl._

I've also used the song _Il pleut, il pleut, bergère. _I was going to post the lyrics here in English, but it would stretch the page unnecessarily and I didn't want to do that. If you google 'Il pleut, il pleut, bergère translation' it will bring up results with the lyrics for you to see. You can also listen to it on YouTube.


	2. Little Delights

**Title:**Little Delights  
**Category:**Books - Harry Potter  
**Challenge(s):**The Russian Roulette Challenge.  
**Prompt(s):**An apple a day keeps the doctor away. - To use however it inspires me.  
**Length:**Drabble – 797 words!  
**Rating:**K  
**Pairing or Characters:**Hermione, Rose, Hugo, Iris, and Ivy (both OCs). With mentions of Ron.  
**Thanks: **To one of my amazing betas, Katie! She always reminds me to paint a picture with my words, not just tell a story, and gives my work high praise. Thank you Katie!**  
****Disclaimer:**Though it pains me to say so, I do not own the rights to anything that belongs to the Harry Potter universe, nor do I make any money from writing about them. The only thing(s) that I can claim as mine own are the ideas and/or characters that may be woven into the wonderful world of all that is Harry Potter. Everything else is used in the spirit of good-natured fun or naughty shenanigans. What can I say? I just like to play!  
**Author's Notes:**Please forgive any and all mistakes that have been made throughout this story. Currently my beta is busy with RL stuff and I've had to submit this unedited. As I'm crap with writing there will be endless mistakes. I've sent this away to my beta for editing and once it's finished I will update it. I would have waited for the chapter to be edited before posting it, however I had a 48 hour deadline. I'm so sorry.

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****Little Delights****

Warming rays of morning sunshine beamed through the kitchen windows where Hermione stood peeling rosy apples fresh from the old tree swaying in the garden. The fragrance of the delicious fruit made her mouth water for just a taste, but Hermione knew that she would just have to wait. It was nearly eight o'clock in the morning, and her little ones would be clambering out of their beds to clatter downstairs for a spot at breakfast at any time. If she didn't whip something together by the time they descended on the kitchen, Hermione knew she would have four grouchy children on her hands for the rest of the day. That was one thing she definitely didn't want to deal with on such a lovely spring morning.

Just beside her cutting board was a bowl of batter being blended rhythmically together with a wire whisk. While the whisk churned round and round with a soft clinking sound, Hermione motioned toward the now cored and quartered apples with her wand. Immediately they sprang to life and began shredding themselves into fine pieces, leaving her free to get the waffle iron prepared. When it was piping hot Hermione mixed the shredded apples into the batter, and then she began spooning the chunky mixture onto the hot plates. The scent of the apples and cinnamon filled the entire kitchen as she cooked one after another of scrumptious-looking waffles. It reminded her of apple pie, one of her favourite sweet desserts.

The smells must have wafted throughout the entire house, because after a while she heard the sounds of her children stirring. Little footsteps could be heard walking across the floor above her, and without having to see for herself, Hermione knew that Rose was helping Iris and Ivy get dressed for the morning. The seven-year-old absolutely adored her twin sisters. Each morning Rose awoke with a smile on her face, ready to greet the toddlers, and she made it her job to get them ready for the day. Hermione found it both sweet and heart-warming that her oldest child was so close with her younger siblings.

A few minutes passed in silence, and then Hermione heard the soft sound of their little voices coming down the stairs. "How big was the pretty unicorn, Ivy?" Rose asked. The interest that Hermione could hear in the girl's voice was absolutely genuine.

"Wosie, he was so big," Ivy chirped with excitement. "As big as a dwagon!"

Rose giggled at the exaggerated size of the unicorn, but she didn't tell her little sister that she was being ridiculous or silly. Rose always encouraged the younger children's imaginations. Instead she said, "I wish I could have seen it. Maybe you could draw me a picture?"

"Okay!" Ivy said with glee. Both of the twins loved to draw little doodles, and most of the time they drew on anything other than parchment.

Hugo's voice came next. "Unicorns can't be the size of dragons."

"That isn't true," Rose protested. "Someone could use some sort of charm or spell to make them bigger." Hermione heard the little boy harrumph at his older sister. Hugo wasn't much of a morning person. As the matter of fact, if Hermione had to guess, she would say her son wouldn't wake up in the mornings if it weren't for breakfast. Like his father, Hugo loved to eat nearly anything, usually in large quantities, and still remained thin as a rail.

All four of the children came into view as she was flipping the last waffle onto a plate. The three girls, who all wore similar dresses with leggings, walked in holding hands. Hugo on the other hand shuffled in behind them with his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, his little shoulders slumped. No, Hugo was definitely not a morning person.

The foursome chorused their morning greetings and gave Hermione squeezing hugs. With a bright smile she said, "Good morning, my loves. How would you like to sit outside in the sunshine while you eat breakfast? There is a nice little spot just under the apple tree that I thought would be perfect."

All of the children nodded—even Hugo, who had perked up at the sight of food—and they all made their way out into the garden. When they were situated beneath the tree, Hermione transfigured a small stump into a low table that they could eat at while sitting in the sweet-smelling grass. Then the five of them dug in. As Hermione chewed a bit of waffle, she thought of how lucky she was. The morning was beautiful, her children healthy, the apple-cinnamon waffles were delicious, and though Ron was missing from their gathering due to work, for Hermione, life really couldn't get any better.

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**A/N: **I really appreciate all of the people who take the time to read and review. I respect positive comments and constructive criticism. Both help to make me a better author which in turn makes my writing style improve for the better. On top of that I truly enjoy responding to all of your reviews. Also, thank you to those of you who favourite and/or follow any of my stories. It means so very much to me! So, thank you all so much!. You're all wee gems! =)

OH! And if you want the recipe Hermione used in this story...check the recipe at the following link...just remove the spaces and the 'e' from com. That is seriously the only way I could share the link...sheesh!

www . food . come/recipe/cinnamon-apple-waffles-431114


	3. Little Star

Hermione closed the worn cover of the nursery rhyme collection in her hands and set it on the table beside Rose's bed. When she turned back to face her five-year-old daughter, the little girl was pouting. Hermione's heart melted. Rose loved books just as much as she did, and nighttime was there special storytime. She leaned forward and placed a loving kissing on top of Rose's head before she said, "Oh Rose, don't look sound sad. We've already read three extra stories this evening and it's getting late."

"But Mum, can't we read one more?" Rose pleased with large, hopeful eyes.

Getting to her feet Hermione murmured softly, "No love, it's time for bed. Now, let's get you tucked in." As she spoke, Hermione pulled the blankets up to tuck around her daughter snugly. Rose on the other hand had crossed her little arms over her chest and turned her head too look out of the window with a sullen expression. Hermione smiled sadly at Rose's grumpiness about not getting her way, then said, "I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well, sweetheart."

"Wait,' Rose exclaimed, throwing her blankets off to clamber toward the window next to her bed. "I saw a shooting star!"

"Well, you'd better make a wish then. Shooting stars are supposed to make your wishes come true." Hermione had paused in the doorway with her hand on the light switch, waiting for Rose to get back in the covers before she shut the light off.

However, Rose was kneeling by the window with her fingers laced together, as if praying, and she was saying, 'I wish my mummy would read me another story."

Hermione fought a grin as she said, 'Nice try, Rose. Goodnight."

Rose scowled at her mum for a minute, then she climbed back under the blankets. Hermione waited until she was settled back against the pillows before she turned off the light and closed the door, all the while smiling over the cheek of her little Rose.


End file.
